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| Subject: Long forgotten dreams | |
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Author: Paul (1-2-3-4-5 Challenge Winner) |
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Date Posted: 22:39:29 11/02/07 Fri To the woods she would run, Amid the humid, towering trees, Where sanctuary came, vanilla sweet, Upon her creaking swing of dreams, Here, away from the calico hell, Where matrimonial black was worn, Superfluous to her romantic notions, Punctuated with blood red attention, His evil web did not spin here, Where, love abounding, She was safe, never forced to yield, To his self indulgent pounding, - Now the gentle hand of Nature soothed, The sweet air, a balm on blackened skin, As his bitter lemon taste faded from her, Falling from her tongue, Into the umber rustle of Autumn’s carpet, Where her bare feet had journeyed, Carrying her to her childhood sanctuary, The silver streak of falling tears, Soaked her gently floating hem, Over thighs, once more her own, Yet she knows she must return, To where the night knows only fear, To once more bear the weight of him, Her heart shut to the squeaking and obscenity, Of calico hell and long forgotten dreams, © Paul Osborne 2007 ![]() [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] |